It was a few minutes before 5:00 pm, their daddy was going to be home soon, dinner preparation could wait a few more minutes. The three of us were sprawled this way and that, on one of their twin beds, as I read from a book I happen to grab off the floor.
I then flipped on to my back and looked over at my daugher lying next to me. I then looked at my son who was lying in the opposite direction as he sat up.
I looked at his innocent little seven-year-old face. I stared actually. Attempting to remember every detail.
"What mamma," he asked.
"You are not allowed to grow up," I blurted.
"Huh," he looked confused.
"No really. This is it. You are not allowed be more than seven years old."
"But I want to get older," my daughter announced.
I took a deep breath. I smiled, squeezing and kissing them, which grounded me and brought me back to the present moment, the present gift, the present joy.
